


the choice of a lifetime

by monday45



Category: The Selection Series - Kiera Cass
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:46:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6357604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monday45/pseuds/monday45
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a writing that i worked in collaboration with my sister although its not my style i though it was worth a shot so i hope you enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter 1

Chapter 1  
Everything around me is bright. Crowds cheer as I pass by my people. Many throw flowers and even more reach for me. I continue down a red carpet laid out solely for me. The smile on my face broadens endlessly as I approach the stage erected in front of Illéa's enormous royal palace. My home.

I delicately lift my dress off the ground to better find my footing on the stairs. All my siblings and friends look on, beaming. My mother is in the center of it all. She couldn't look more proud of me. Most excitingly, she is holding my crown.  
Ceremoniously, she takes it from her own head and holds it reverently before her. As practiced, I kneel before her and slightly bow my head. Queen Athena raises the crown above her head and slowly lowers it down to my own, marking the end of her powerful reign. 

I raise my head and slowly stand. Turning around, I face my people in a way I never have before; as their queen. 

Shouts and cheers arise again. They adore me! My mother and father had been perfect rulers. They fed the hungry, made alliances, and appeased the business owners. 

With this transfer of power comes their blessed transfer of affection. Soon, the yells become individual words, a veritable chorus of approval. 

"Long live Queen Everleigh! Long live the queen!"

Just then, as I am about to take my throne for the first time, I am hit with something. It squishes and bursts against my ribcage, hopelessly staining my dress. Just and the tomato falls to the ground another one hits, followed by a barrage of all types of rotten things. Before I can protect myself another tomato attacks my face as the cheers turn to boos.

 

With a start, I awake to the feeling of my favorite pillow cushioning my face. Bailey, my maid, quickly crosses the room, spurred by my movement. 

"Your Highness," she greets happily. Bailey is consistently cheerful; from the earliest mornings to the latest nights. 

"Good morning, Bailey."

"So," Bailey pauses, seeming to consider her next words, "Are you excited? You know, about the boys?"

I adore Bailey. She is only a year older than me and we have been friends for years. She is always reserved and tries not to pry or overstep her bounds, but this is one thing she can’t resist. The Selection was always like a dream to her. All the swoon and sparkle. She knows everything about every single one of them from the time Queen Avery was chosen, to Queen Amberly’s coronation; all the way down the line to the first female selection when Queen Eadlyn chose her match.

Now, I suppose, she intends to know everything she can about my own. Luckily for her, she has a front row seat as not only my maid but my closest confidante.

I don’t know quite how I felt about the Selection. It did seem glamorous and flattering, and I knew I want a husband and children of my own one day. The thing that has kept me awake at night was the idea that we might nove 35 of Illèa’s most eligible bachelors into the palace, probably some of the best young men in the country, and I still might not find the one the one I am meant to love. Yes, I have the power to order a whole new round of men whenever I pleased, but the country would tire of the tryst and the servants would tire of the extra work. 

And what if I fell in love with one, but he is no good for the country? Illèa would be in my hands one day and I wanted to do right by myself through marriage, but I needed to do right by my country first.

My father, when he was of age to marry, refused the Selection process. He met my mother when a diplomat came to the castle on important business and his daughter came with. The royal family kept finding reasons for him to remain at the palace long after his business had ended. Two years later, my parents were happily married.

When I turned 17 this year, my parents informed me that it was my time to start looking toward the country’s future. Unfortunately, my country and my love life go hand in hand. Of course they let me decide how I would go about finding my country’s king, but I’ve seen all the diplomats kids, and I know the Selection is my only chance. Besides, I could never pass up the opportunity to socialize.

Everyone set to work immediately. Rooms were prepared, notices were sent out and unthinkable amounts of food were ordered. The only left to do is announce the names. And today is the day.

“Your Highness…your highness? Princess Everleigh?”

My name snaps me back to attention. No one ever calls me my name directly to my face except my parents. And Bailey. Technically, that is a punishable act, but she is my friend, I feel like we should stand on common ground in at least one way.

I look at her for a moment. Curious as to why she broke my concentration. Usually she leaves me to my thoughts. 

“Well?” She asks, almost impatient, “What do you think?”Confusion drips into my voice, “About what?”

Bailey giggles a little at my expression and quickly covers her mouth.

“About the boys, your Highness.” 

Oh. Yes. She had asked me about that hadn’t she?

“Well...to be honest I have no idea, Bailey.” 

I know she won’t be satisfied with this meager answer. I roll out of bed and sit in front of my mirror. 

“It all just seems like it will be a little overwhelming.” 

“Why do you think that?” Bailey asks, picking up my hair and beginning to brush it.

Before she can do more I take her hands and lead her around to sit on the bench beside me.

“35 of them and one of me. Can you even imagine? My only exposure to boys is my brother and my baby cousin.”

“Yes, but always remember, my dear girl, you wield the power. No matter who you marry, you are the bloodline. None of those men can take that from you.”

I squeeze her hands between mine. Bailey always has the best pep talks. She could be sweet without babying and that was the best part. 

After a moment or two, she helps me into my dress for the day, a baby blue, shin-length number with capped sleeves and a fitted waist. This was by far one of my favorite day dresses. The blue brings out my eyes, and it was effortlessly gorgeous. Tonight, when we tape the Report, and throughout the rest of the Selection, I intend to wear more sophisticated ensembles, but for now I just want to revel in the familiarity of these last few normal days. After this, my life will never be the same.


	2. chapter 2

Chapter 2  
“You’re going to be enormous if you eat that,” my sister Guinevere scolds little Andrew who is reaching for yet another pastry. He responds by sticking out his sugar-coated tongue. Andrew is seven, but he can eat more than my sister and I combined. 15-year-old Guinevere monitors everything she eats. She is obsessed with eating healthily. I respect her dedication to taking care of her body, but my brother and I are just as healthy and we eat anything and everything we want.

My mother pipes up, “I’d prefer you not word it that way, Guin, but Andrew, I am afraid your sister is right. How about some strawberries? Watermelon? Anything?” Andrew reaches for the fruit bowl, seemingly having a change of heart, but we all know he’ll be back to his usual tricks before dinner.

Then, suddenly, I feel a shift in the air and before I know it everyone’s attention centers on me.

“So, Everleigh. Excited for tonight?” My mother asks. She is the one leading everything Selection-related. It’s too much for me to handle by myself while juggling proposals and budgets with my father. 

“Yes!” My mouth hangs open, but this word did not come from my lips.

I look over at Guinevere who is practically trembling with excitement.

My parents chuckle quietly at her enthusiasm, “Now, I don’t believe your name is Everleigh, now is it?” My mother asks.

For no real reason, Guin looks chided. “I wish it were.”

“Not this again,” my father says, “Your name is lovely and we spent many a night discussing it.”

“But it sounds so dark. Gothic. I’m too light a person to carry such a heavy name.”

Guin has always been bitter about her name, but I think it quite suits her. It doesn’t sound dark or gothic to me. I think a person named Guinevere is someone you are meant to revere. Someone to look up to and adore. 

“Your name is perfect,” my mother is getting impatient. “Now, I believe I asked your sister a question.”

Just like that, all the attention is back to me.

“Well, I am excited to be done with the mystery of it all.” All I want is to find out who my options are and get the competition started. Clearly, someone doesn’t share my opinion. Guin scoffs beside me. She hates being out out of the spotlight for even a few seconds. 

“Ever, the mystery is the best part!”  
“Guin’s right! The idea of a guy is always better than the actual guy. Keep away from them.” Surprisingly, my father throws in his two cents on the matter. He hates when we talk of my Selection. 

Guin clears her throat, “That’s not quite what I meant…”

Before anyone has the chance to reply, I quickly take the opportunity to divert the conversation, “Andrew, what do you think about all those boys coming to stay with us?”

“Do you think they will like cars? They can only stay if they like cars.”

I smile at him. He is probably my favorite person on this planet. His requests are always so simple, so innocent. He is the easiest person to please. I love Guin, too, but she is too much like myself and, at the same time, too much not. Sometimes I’m not sure how my parents deal with us all. They are amazing role models. Everyday they demonstrate true strength. Leadership always seemed to come effortlessly to them when I was a child, but now that I am old enough to actually be involved in decisions about my fine nation I can see how tired they have become. Unlike most jobs, this one is life-long. No weekends, no holidays- though we celebrate lavishly-, no vacations, and no retirement.

I know I am blessed. Since birth I have never had anything to worry about. Food on the table, clothes on my back, and more money than anyone could spend in one lifetime. But because of my birth the well-being of my country falls on my back. I’m given everything I could ever need so I can don’t need to worry about myself or my family. In exchange, I need to ensure that the rest of Illèa is well-fed, well-paid, and has a high quality of life. It is quite the job.

“Is that all, Andrew?”

“Yeah, just make sure they don’t eat all the food.”

Everyone at the table, and even a few guards laugh lovingly at him. We finish our breakfast in good spirits.

 

“Crisis in Allens.” This is the first thing I hear when I walk into the boardroom.

“Hello to you too, Christina!”

“My apologies, your Highness, but this needs your immediate attention.”

I sigh. Never a dull moment.

“Doesn’t it all? What’s the problem?”

Christina, the royal military adviser, clicks a few buttons on the table in front of her, bringing up a hologram showing the main square in the province of Allens. Civilians are rushing everywhere, every inch of the display is utter madness.

“Christina, I am going to need words, this doesn’t mean much to me.”

“You see, your Highness, the people are in line outside the main office. They’re handing in their papers for the Selection.”

Lovely. No matter the reality, this scuffle has my name written all over it. The Selection hasn’t even begun and it’s falling apart at the seams.

“It was peaceful there, perfect, in fact,” Christina continues, “until a man came barreling into the crowd with a knife. He slashed at anything and everything in sight. All the soldiers were caught off guard, so he managed to get pretty far.”

I gasp as she rewinds the hologram and points out the man.

“He injured ten people, three of whom are currently in critical condition. The soldiers captured him, but his accomplices were right behind him. They were all screaming horrible things about the monarchy, yourself included, your Highness.”

My mouth gapes open. Speak against the monarchy? It is madness! Do we not provide them with everything they could want? Everything they need? Do we not have their best interests at heart here? 

“You said they were captured, correct? So why is there still rioting?”

Christina pauses for a moment, hesitant to tell me the truth.

“There will be an answer to my question, Christina.”

A beat passes between us, silence that says more than mere words.

“Christina,” I say, in my best diplomatic voice, “you have helped my father and I through a lot. I hate to be so sharp with you, but you need to tell me what is happening in Allens, and you need to do it now.”

My anger is rising inside me. My father wants me to take on issues. Advisors want me to get a feel for ruling my own country. They place enormous amounts of pressure on me to deal with things before they got worse, and yet Christina is going to keep secrets from me?

Finally, she speaks. But they are not the words I want to hear.

“Perhaps I should go to King Aaron with this matter.”

I have had enough. I push back my chair with a horrid squeal and slam my hands on the desk.

“But you didn’t take it to him, did you? You brought it to me, because you believe   
I can handle it. There is no going back now.” 

Christina looks down, ashamed. Normally, I hate it when people react like this. I know I have power, but I am not practiced at handling it yet around my staff. This time is different. I want answers and I want them before they tear apart my livelihood. 

I sit back down, more composed than before and level my voice again.

“Now, I am going to ask again. This time I advise you to remember who it is you are talking to.”

“Y-yes, your H-Highness!” Christina stammers out an apology. She is older than myself, probably hovering around age 30, and I feel simultaneously proud and ashamed that I have nearly brought her to tears.

“Good. Now, if I recall correctly, all members of this radical party have been contained. So why, then, is Allens in the midst of a riot?”

“Begging your pardon, your Highness, I only said the instigator of this little rebellion is in custody. They did catch a couple of his cohorts, but some are still on the loose. And the people there…” Christina pauses. I fix her with a look and she quickly picks the conversation back up, “At first they fought the rebels, calling them traitorous liars, but then one managed to silence them. He shouted things about how the United States of America was once founded on the idea of freedom from a monarchy and the ability to choose your own leaders for yourself. The people were hesitant to listen to them because they all know that the United States was far from perfect and was young when it ended. But...but the more the radicals spoke, the more the people listened. Before anyone knew what was happening, it was an all out frenzy.”

My fingers fly to my temples, to my hair, trying to cope with all this. 

“Thank you, Christina.” She looks visibly upset. It takes me a moment to realize that Allens is her home province. It is impossible for me to imagine seeing my home fall apart that quickly.

“I just need to know two more things. Can you do that?”

Christina takes a deep breath. Just doing this simple task helps her to relax. 

“First,” I began, “what happened to those in line with their applications?”

“Only some could turn them in. The rebels ripped a lot of the applications apart during the fighting.”

Great! When everything is finally coming together, something else feels the need to come through and destroy it all, leaving me with no time to fix any of it.

“Alright. Secondly, have you informed my father?”

“Yes. We told his Majesty when it first broke out. He sent soldiers for reinforcements, but he thought this would be a good mission for you to attend to.”

I rub my hands across my face again, stopping for a moment to focus solely on the tension leaving my muscles. 

I raise my head again far to early.

“Christina, I need one last thing from you.”


End file.
